The Limp
by Nellie Elwood
Summary: The story of the week Newt got his limp, not exactly in chronological order, the story follows him, Minho, Alby, and to a lesser extent, Thomas as the events unfold leading up to Newt's most defining moment as a character in the series.
1. Broken Head

Alby knew something was wrong as soon as he saw Newt. His friend was in a heap on the floor of the maze, and he wasn't moving.

"Minho he's here!" Alby shouted as he rushed over to the unconscious Newt. "Come on, Brother." Alby said, with Newt's face in his hands. "Wake up, Newt, I swear to god." Alby's voice cracked as he rolled Newt from his side to his back.

His leg was twisted hideously, and when Alby lifted Newt's shirt he could see that a few of his ribs on his left side were seriously out of place. Newt's left wrist was swollen and blackening, and his face looked badly scraped.

"Brother, you better not have broken your head." said Alby as he searched Newt's scalp for bumps or cuts. And then it hit him. Alby realized what had happened and he was just so _angry_.

"You absolute pile of klunk, you jumped, didn't you?" He said, his voice rising in both volume and hysteria as he spoke. "You, shuck-face! Why the hell would you do this?" Alby was screaming now, and he was shaking Newt by the front of his shirt.

Minho rounded the corner, horrified. He knew what had happened as soon as he saw Newt's leg.

"Back off, Alby. That won't help him, now." Said Minho running over to Newt. He put his ear to Newt's chest and, hearing a slow weak drum of life, said "We need to get him to the med-jacks, now Alby." in a tone of sheer urgency. "You take his top-half, and I'll get his legs. We've only got ten minutes and we've got a mile and half to run, so get your klunk-ass moving."

With tears coating his face Alby grabbed Newt under his armpits, and lifted. Minho held Newt's ankles at his sides as he ran forward, glad that Alby couldn't see that his own face, was now crumpled in a attempt to keep it together for all three of them.

At some point Newt regained just enough sense to know he was in pain. He gave a pained moan, and Alby could see his eyes open, just barely.

Minho and Alby ran faster and harder than they thought they could, carrying Newt. Just a corner away they heard the doors begin to close, and Minho sped up, forcing Alby with him. Alby squeezed through the door last, and as his did he felt it scrape the back of his heel.

Alby and Minho collapsed from exertion, leaving Newt to fall limply to the ground. He let out another pained moan. Someone shouted

"Get the med-jacks over here!" And Minho said

"Someone get some water into Alby," as he stood up and whispered to Clint, one of the med-jacks what had happened. Clint and his partner took Newt away on a stretcher the gladers had made ages ago, but had never used for anyone but people who'd been stung. Minho followed close behind, and when Alby could stand again he followed them off to the homestead.

Minho watched the med-jacks work,

"Let me know anything you can tell" Minho said as the two of them shuffled about, taking Newt's vitals, and getting good looks at his injuries. Soon enough Clint said,

"Well he won't be a runner again. That's for sure." Minho could see why as the med-jacks considered ways to set his mangled leg.

"Things are about to get messy. He'll need someone to hold on to. This will hurt like nothing he's felt before."

Minho moved over to Newt and grabbed his friend's hand. Alby burst into the room, and Minho secretly thanked god saying,

"Here, you should be there for him" to Alby. Alby pulled a chair up to Newt's bed, and replaced Minho, who was out of the door before anyone noticed. He rushed out the back door of the homestead and vomited until he was just dry heaving. His breath came quick and hard, and He finally let himself cry. A beetle blade glinted in the moonlight,

"Do you see what you've done"Minho asked with the desperation evident in his voice. "we're not just killing each other now. We're killing ourselves. You must have limits, right? Isn't this past that?"

Somewhere far above him Thomas cringed at the brutal honesty of Minho's plea.


	2. Mess

In the homestead things had indeed gotten messy. Alby clutched Newt's hand, and felt his friend's nails dig deep into his flesh, as the med-jacks tried to arrange his broken bones back into the correct configuration. Newt was wide awake, now, and once between agonized screams he whispered to Alby

"Just let me die, Brother. Just let me go." in a fresh wave of tears Alby said,

"No. Sorry shuck-face, but you don't get to leave me here alone."


	3. A Quiet Confrence

Newt was deadly quiet, lately, and Alby was starting to worry about his friend. Minho too, had seen a change in Newt. his silence was jarring, as Newt was usually the one filling the maps room with chatter. Newt looked like he might not be sleeping as much as he should, and he'd most definitely lost weight. He looked bad.

"What do we do?" Alby asked Minho as the two stood quietly behind the homestead.

"No clue. I mean, whenever I try to see if he's okay he either gets mad or tries to act like his old self. Something's wrong with him for sure, but I don't know what we can do If he won't admit it." Minho answered, his concern audible.

"That's true, I guess." said Alby, sounding defeated.

"He'll be okay. We'll make sure of it. I can keep an eye on him while we're doing runners stuff, and you'll keep an eye on him the rest of the time, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." said Alby, sounding better,now, though still worried.


	4. Stirring the Pot

Thomas sat around the table with Janson and the other department heads. Janson glowered out at them menacingly.

"Our rate of incoming blueprints has decreased significantly." Thomas explained to kick off the brainstorm session. "The thing is, we have to stir the pot in group A, and Janson and I think we may know how. Clark," Thomas said to the Head of psychology and patient history, "What do you know about the one they call Newt?"

"Well," Clark said nervously, "He's, um, one of the leaders of the group. He fluctuates between second and third in command these days, though he used to be a permanent second. I've checked his medical history, and there's no record of his father, but his mother suffered from Manic Depression, Bipolar Disorder, and probably several other mental illnesses. She killed herself shortly before Newt was found and brought here, records show that she was not immune to the virus, but she never did catch it. The thing is, Newt has been showing some signs of depression, both in his actions and in the measurements we get off his brain, he's way out of balance." Clark seemed to had gradually gained confidence, and when his spoke now his voice was demanding. "We need to medicate him. I don't know exactly how, but I think we could use the chip to initiate a sort of painless electro-shock-therapy. Additionally-"

"Actually" said Thomas, a whiff of apology just barely detectable in his voice. "We, err, won't be medicating Newt. Like I said- Group A needs a change and, well, I think this is the place to get it."

"No, you don't understand" said Clark, looking worried. "If we don't medicate him, Newt will more than likely end up suicidal, like his mother."

"I understand." Thomas said. He was looking down, now. Janson looked proud as Thomas continued, "and how invaluable could those particular blueprints be? Suicide is the ultimate form of regression- the mirror image of the very response you've claimed we have to fight."

"Wait, you're going to stand back and watch a kid kill himself?" Clark said, scandalized, nearly yelling.

"Tell me me that you're sure we can find the cure without those blueprints, Clark."Said Tomas sadly. "You said in your consultation just a few months ago that those blueprints could be the key." Clark was pale, and looked dumbfounded. He leaned back in his chair, and ran a hand through his hair.

"Clark," said Thomas, "When- How long do you think it will be before Newt…"

"What tries to off himself?" Clark answered sinisterly casual. "Oh I dunno. According to the levels now it's a wonder he hasn't already." Then, the man stood violently and walked briskly, but clumsily out of the room.

Thomas found Clark's body just a day after Alby found Newt's. Clark had jumped. Just like the boy he knew he'd nearly killed.

AN: so for more stuff on his mother feel free to look at my other TMR fic 'humble beginnings'


End file.
